


Blame the Tequila: Chapter Two

by gemini_cole



Series: Blame the Tequila [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night after the events in chapter one, Tom and Frankie wake up with regrets..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame the Tequila: Chapter Two

The sun blazing through his window felt like knives in his eyeballs. Muttering to himself, he stumbled over to the window, still half-asleep, intent on closing the shades and going back to sleep. As he turned to slide back into bed, he became aware of two things. One, the clothes scattered around the room were not all his. Two, he did not appear to be alone, judging from the lump of blanket in his bed. Blearily attempting to take stock of the situation, he scratched at the stubble along his jawline. He would have thought he would remember bringing someone home last night. Had he really been that wasted? And was that a bra dangling from his ceiling fan? Sighing to himself, he gingerly perched himself on the side of the bed. Reaching over, he gently nudged the blanketed lump, clearing his throat.

            “Um. Excuse me, hello?”

            “ffffmmmiiitttsss.”

            “Beg pardon?”

            A head of messy brunette hair poked out from under the blanket. “Five more minutes.” With that, she pulled a pillow over her head. The steady rise and fall of the blanket suggested return to sleep.

            “ _Well that’s a fine ‘how do you do’ first thing in the morning_ ,” he mused. His gaze landed on the clutch purse in the middle of the floor, next to a pair of discarded heels. The zipper undone, a tube of lipstick, a hair tie and a phone were spilling out of it. Before he could stop himself, he was kneeling on the floor, phone in hand.

            “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

            Tom nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the phone. Slowly, he turned back to face the bed. Sitting up, the covers pulled around her shoulders, she regarded him with a cocked eyebrow and a look of ill-concealed distain. The messy hair now a halo around her and a thin layer of makeup beneath her eyes were further evidence of last night’s “activities.” As if he needed proof.

            Condescendingly, she drawled, “looking for something?”

            Maybe it was her accent, or her tone of voice, but something about her set him off. No way was he going to let her make him feel like a prat in his own home. Shoving her phone back in her clutch along with the other things, he zipped it up and tossed it on the end of the bed.

            “Just figured I would help you get your things together.”

            “Also known as ‘get the fuck out.’ Right?”

            “It doesn’t have to be…”

            Frankie held up her hands in a sign of protest. “Hey, I get it. Clearly you’ve been there done that before. I just figured a posh dude like you would at least make a girl coffee or something. I guess you can’t teach manners at those preppy boarding schools.”

            “Now, wait a minute…”

            “No, you wait a minute! You were the one going through my things! Tell me honestly, what did you expect to find?”

            Blowing out a sigh of frustration, Tom raked a hand through his hair. “Pictures. I thought I’d find pictures on your phone. Or video.”

            Frankie regarded him silently for a moment, digesting that information. Finally she murmured, “pictures or videos. Because clearly, I’m that kind of girl, right? A bitchy, in-it-for-the-money, selling you out to TMZ, spilling all your secrets kind of girl. Wow, thanks. This is quite a way to wake up. You know, if I’d known that this was what I had to look forward to I would have never taken you up on your offer. The sex wasn’t worth this.”

            “You can hardly blame me. Look where we met.”

            “Right. Because all women in bars are opportunistic whores. Got it.” With that Frankie started rummaging around under the sheets. Sighing, she finally spat out, “Turn around.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, finally asking, “Why ever would I do that?”

Frankie glared witheringly at him. “Because, I’m naked, and I’d like not to be. So, since you clearly don’t remember what I look like naked, I’d prefer to keep it that way. Now, turn around.”

            Tom heard her hop out of bed and scamper towards her clothes. It wasn’t a moment later her also heard her suck in her breath.

            “Is that my fucking bra in the ceiling fan?”

            Still not turning to look, he nodded his assent before stating, “Say what you will, but apparently things went well last night.”

            Frankie snorted and shot back, “not that you remember or anything though, right?” She groaned in frustration again before barking, “turn around and help me get my goddamn bra back, would you?”

            Tom turned. Standing there in the middle of his bed, Frankie stood, wrapped in the bed sheet, straining to reach the bra. Even in the middle of all this, he had to pause just for a moment. Prickly personality not withstanding, she was gorgeous. He could see why he’d gone after her last night, even if he couldn’t remember it at all. He hopped up onto the bed, reaching for the ceiling fan. He was suddenly very aware that they were both naked and within inches of each other. Looking down at Frankie, her figure draped in just a thin sheet, Tom was full of regret for the way he handled things. “ _Made an arse of yourself now, Thomas_ ,” he thought to himself. “ _No way she’d have you now.”_ Tom grasped the bra and gave it a tug, handing it to Frankie. Suddenly the humor of the situation hit them both and they giggled for an instant before things turned awkward again.

            Jumping down off the bed, Tom handed Frankie her top just as she finished with her bra. Clearing his throat meaningfully, he spoke up.

            “Listen, its just that I have to be careful, you know? A man in my position..”

            “If your “position” is what you are worried about, stop having one night stands with questionable people.”

            “No, listen I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant…”

            “No, really I get it. Listen, I’ll keep my mouth shut, if you aren’t an asshole if we should ever run into each other ever again. Deal?”

            “Come now, we could be friends, or at least acquaintances. I’ll make you a cup of tea before you go, we could get to know one another.”

            Frankie pulled a face. “Sorry. I need coffee. This hangover is going to kill me, and I have to try to get some work done today.” With that, she zipped up her jeans, and scooped her heels off the floor. Padding barefoot out into the hallway, she stopped by the entryway to pull on her heels. Grabbing her jacket, she turned to go. Smiling sadly now at him, she quietly stated, “you know, if I knew this was how it was going to end, I would’ve turned you down. I admired you so much before all this.”

            With that she turned, shutting the door quietly behind her. Tom felt all around terrible as he slumped against the door momentarily. She was right. If it was his position he was worried about, he shouldn’t have done this in the first place. Not only that, he had taken his frustrations about himself out on her. He walked over the living room window, looking out just in time to see Frankie walking away down the street. She was wrapping her jacket tightly around herself like a security blanket, warding against the morning chill. He realized he hadn’t even gotten her last name. __  
  


           

           


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